


New Frontiers

by kerithwyn



Category: High Frontier Trilogy - Chris Claremont
Genre: F/F, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-18 18:34:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3579660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerithwyn/pseuds/kerithwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nicole isn't sure, but that doesn't mean she won't give it her best shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Frontiers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Teaotter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teaotter/gifts).



> Written for Rarelywritten 2015 as a treat for Teaotter. Set post- _FirstFlight._
> 
> Thanks to Carmen for first look!

She had never, Nicole thought with some irony, fussed this much over clothing for a date with a guy. She scrubbed a hand over her head, still getting used to the feel of the close-trimmed hair on the sides.

She wasn’t a dress kind of girl, anyway. Nicole finally settled on a pair of tailored black pants, a blue silk shirt, and a black vest embroidered with a subtle abstract gray pattern. Her still-healing injuries wouldn’t allow anything but simple flat shoes, but at least she was free of the casts and bandages.

Nicole made a face at the cane propped near the access hatch but took it anyway. As the taxi arrived, the doorway irised open and she stepped into the Rapitrans car. The car acknowledged her entry with a beep and sped through the tunnels that criss-crossed the moon, heading for the restaurant district. 

“Thank you for riding Lunar Rapitrans, Lieutenant Shea,” the automated voice told her as the car slowed to a stop. “Have a pleasant day.”

She noted with amusement that the cars had stopped congratulating her on her award. Fame, so fleeting, she thought as she exited the car and stepped into the entertainment dome. 

It’d been two days since Ben Ciari left on _Enterprise,_ bound for an alien world. Two days since General Canfield’s congratulatory dinner. Two days of physical exams and psych evals, all the tests intended to determine if she would ever be declared ready for space flight again. But today she was putting all that aside to meet her friend for lunch. Nicole was looking forward to their reunion with more than a little anticipation.

Hana was already waiting when Nicole approached the restaurant. The tall Japanese woman was wearing a summer dress, a striking bright blue the same color as her eyes. The same blue as her shirt, Nicole realized with a jolt; she must’ve been making subconscious associations when she placed the clothing order. Hana had been letting her hair grow long and the tail of her mohawk fell loose over her gray shawl. Complimentary colors, Nicole thought, a good omen.

Hana’s eyes widened in concern as Nicole limped toward her. “Your leg—I shouldn’t have made you walk.”

“Good to see you too,” Nicole said dryly. “I’m fine. The exercise is good for it.” She stopped, hearing her own tone, and started again. “I’m glad you called.”

“I wanted to make sure we saw each other one more time before you head back to Earth.”

Hana had called the day before, asking for a lunch date...and making it unambiguously clear she really, truly did mean the “date” part. “Or we could just eat,” she’d said, giving Nicole an out. 

But Nicole hadn’t forgotten everything they’d been through together. The way Hana had danced with her on the Halyan’t’a ship. The way Hana had stood by during the last few months, visiting her in the hospital, offering sympathy when Nicole needed it and stronger words to get her moving when the next round of therapy loomed.

The bond between them already existed. Nicole felt that she owed it to them both to find out how deep it ran.

The sign on the door read “Tastes of Home,” which seemed auspicious. “I’ve been wanting to try this place,” Hana said, smiling. “But tapas aren’t any fun unless you have someone to share them with.”

A tall, lanky teenaged waiter sat them against a far wall, away from the other customers lingering over their meals. “Sangria?” he asked before anything else, and Nicole nodded with enthusiasm. Alcohol had only just been re-allowed on her rehabilitation plan.

The waiter brought a pitcher for the table, pouring them each a glass before setting it down between them. Orange and lemon slices floated in the carafe, and Nicole thought briefly of the cost of transporting the fruit from Earth before dismissing the concern. DaVinci Base spoiled its astronauts in small ways, faint compensation for the hazards of space.

Hana drank with evident enjoyment, then put her glass down with a decisive motion. She looked across the table, catching Nicole’s eyes. “I really am sorry about Ben. If you need time....”

Nicole and Ben had spent their last night together making love and clinging to each other with almost fevered passion. And then they’d said goodbye. 

And yet.... “No. No. If I’ve learned anything over the last few months, it’s that life is too short.” She grimaced at the cliché, but it was true. Paul, Cat, Chagay...they would all tell her that. If they could still speak. If they were still here. “We said what we needed to. We both understand we have to move on. Ben to the stars, and me....”

Nicole hesitated. She hadn’t any idea where her next career steps might take her. The Solar Cross represented a high honor, but it wouldn’t pay the bills. She needed another assignment, another chance to take a ship across the galaxy. 

“You’ll get another command,” Hana said without a hint of doubt. 

“Because the first went so well,” Nicole said with knowing irony. Because it had and hadn’t; on her watch the trip ended with three crewmembers dead and a lost ship. And yet they’d flushed out a vast pirate conspiracy and oh, yes, made Earth’s first contact with an alien species along the way.

Hana was smiling, calm as a Buddha. “You’re too valuable to waste. But I can’t pretend I’m not glad we’re both on furlough.”

Nicole smiled back, glad to leave the subject of her uncertain professional future. Not that her personal life was any more assured, but today she was taking the first step toward finding out. “I guess we should talk about...us.”

Hana reached across the table. Nicole took her hand, letting their fingers curl together. She let out a slow breath and said, “The thing is, I’ve never dated a woman before.”

Hana grinned, as wicked as she’d been serene a moment ago. “I said that once. When I was seventeen.”

Nicole thought back to what Hana had revealed about her past while they were aboard _Wanderer._ “Was that Beth?”

“Not then, not yet. I was pretty wild as an undergrad. Boys, girls, I wanted everyone. Had a steady boyfriend for a while, but it never got serious. Then I met Beth at Stanford and everything changed.”

“You said you were together three years?”

“Long enough to start thinking we might really have a life together. But I’d never hidden the fact that I wanted to be part of NASA more than breathing, and she...never really believed I would go. Until I got the call.” Hana looked briefly pensive, then curious. “We never talked about your exes.”

“Not much to tell.” Nicole took a long sip of sangria, thinking back. “I was completely career-focused from the moment I understood that a job in space was possible. I dated a bit, never let things get serious. Didn’t think romance was for me, until Ben. Although I don’t know I’d call what we had ‘romantic.’”

“Hot, though,” Hana smirked. “Paul and I thought you might spontaneously combust from the sexual tension between you two.”

Nicole swallowed hard. “Speaking of Paul...you said it was a casual thing with him. I...don’t want to be like that, with you.”

Hana squeezed her hand. “No fear of that.” She let go as their waiter approached, the young man looking nervous about interrupting. 

Nicole wasn’t sure whether to be irritated or grateful for the reprieve. She belatedly glanced at the menu, but it was too long for her to contemplate. She wasn’t in the mood to make that many decisions. She put down the long sheet and glanced at Hana. “Feeling adventurous?”

Hana put her own menu aside with a relieved look. “ _Hai._ “

Nicole looked at the young man. “Bring us whatever the chef thinks is best. Don’t stop until we cry for mercy.”

The boy grinned. “Chef Moreno loves requests like this. Any allergies or food aversions? No, excellent. I’ll be back in a moment.”

He returned almost immediately with their first course: melon wrapped with a thin slice of melt-in-the-mouth Serrano ham.

More food followed, almost too fast to keep up with. Nicole hadn’t looked at the menu long enough to realize that “tapas” was more a descriptor than an indication of cuisine. Every dish seemed to originate from a different country, an international mélange of flavors that inexplicably all worked together. The sangria probably helped, she thought. But there was a definite bent toward savory/sweet combinations: calamari tossed with a sweet Thai chili sauce, Swedish meatballs with lingonberry jam, bacon-wrapped dates with tangy goat cheese. Those courses were interspersed with traditional Spanish flavors: gambas al ajillo, garlic chips accenting perfectly cooked shrimp; croquetas with nearly liquid insides like a chicken pot pie; patatas bravas, the potatoes spiked with sharp chilis; a salty, delicate bite of bacalao.

They ate and talked and drank and laughed, telling tales of their separate-but-mutual drive to reach the stars. Nicole had known Hana was brilliant—the expense of launching humans into space was too extreme to send any but the best—and she’d seen Hana’s skills under pressure. But she hadn’t realized that the civilian competition for a shot at a ship berth was as vicious as any military rivalry. Only, it seemed, with fewer rules of engagement. 

“Enough, enough,” Nicole finally groaned to the waiter, eying the remains of their last dish with some despair. Hana was leaning back in her chair, shaking her head. “Tell the chef everything was amazing.”

He nodded, smiling as he removed the evidence of their gluttony. “Chef Moreno will be out in a moment.”

Nicole realized with a start that she and Hana were the only ones left in the restaurant, the other patrons having long departed. She didn’t have time to be self-conscious about that, because a small woman in chef’s whites was making her way toward them. Her iron-gray hair was bound up in a tight bun on her head, and Nicole recognized the same sharp nose as their waiter. A relative, almost certainly. 

Hana surprised her by standing and bowing slightly. “Chef Moreno, you honor us with your talent.”

The chef flapped her hands, waving Hana back down. “Nonsense. Lieutenant Shea, Dr. Murai, thank _you_ for your service and your sacrifices. The meal is on the house.” Her demeanor brooked no argument. She peered intently at the two of them. “You have room for dessert, of course.”

Neither of them dared to say no. Hana grinned across the table at Nicole as the chef headed back to the kitchen. “Not hard getting used to that, right?”

“Being recognized? I guess. I just wish it hadn’t come at so high a cost.”

“There’s that.” Hana lifted her glass. “To Paul and Cat and Chagay.” 

“To those in peril on the sea,” Nicole said softly, the old hymn adopted now to include the cold sea of space. “Grant them peace of heart and mind, and comfort loved ones left behind.”

They both drank—Nicole thought that had better be her last sip, the way her head was swimming—and despite their mutual satiety, she and Hana both looked with interest at the new plate set down between them. Not one dessert but a trio: salted caramel flan, tiny chocolate cakes with a molten cinnamon-scented interior, and a peach-almond tart. 

“I’ll power through it with you,” Hana said with a determined air, and Nicole gamely picked up a fork.

When they finally managed to stagger out of the restaurant, Hana let out a long, satisfied sigh. “That was wonderful. Thanks for indulging me, Nicole.”

“I’m glad you asked,” Nicole said, wondering what to say, what to do next. 

Hana laughed softly. “You’re nearly cross-eyed with fatigue. I’ve already pinged for a cab, if you don’t mind me seeing you home.”

“That’s...probably a good idea,” Nicole admitted. “But when can we— I’m bound for Earth next week. I’ve got months before I’m ready to go back out, but you, they’re going to send you out as soon as possible.”

Hana shook her head. “I know. I’m not proposing, Nicole.” She grinned suddenly. “But I also don’t see why we shouldn’t explore what we have, while we have time. And even when I get my new assignment, I’ll still have time to visit my family Earthside before I go. And you.”

It wasn’t really an answer, but there probably weren’t any to be had. 

As before, the cab swiftly delivered Nicole to her destination. Before she got out Hana kissed her cheek, her mouth lingering. “What you were saying before, about not wanting to be like Paul. I didn’t make it clear enough to him that we were casual. So, full disclosure: I don’t want to give you reason to believe my feelings for you are in any way casual.”

Nicole had the distinct feeling she wasn’t going to have the least bit in control of this relationship. For the first time in her life, she didn’t mind one bit.


End file.
